


Siren

by NeverwinterThistle



Category: Far Cry 4
Genre: Hand Jobs, Kink Meme, M/M, Mild D/s, Mildly Dubious Consent, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3181667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverwinterThistle/pseuds/NeverwinterThistle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He thinks, in a fleeting moment he'll make himself forget, that he's never been more afraid in his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Siren

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spacehussy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacehussy/gifts).



> Fill for the [lovely new kink meme!](http://farcry4-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/436.html#comments) ! It's starting to warm up a little, why not come play? 
> 
> Title comes from [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sGu13wyTpj8) song, because it happened to be playing when I couldn't come up with anything else. As ever, Spacehussy, the story is all yours. Thank you!

"You should have seen that tower fall, it was...awesome." Ajay laughs, swipes the heel of his palm over some stubborn brick dust clinging to his temple. He's still finding smears of the stuff on his wrists, forearms, neck, though he could've sworn he'd cleaned it all off. "And when the factory went up in smoke? God, I wish I'd had a camera. It was perfect."

He lets the door swing shut behind him with unnecessary force; too pumped to care, too high on fire and ruin and victory.

Sabal is waiting in what passes for his command centre in Banapur; much like Amita's, two houses down, only with a few more candles and a few less grenades arranged on shelves like ornaments. Still the stacks of paper everywhere; intel and reports and requests for resources they can't spare. Ammo within easy reach; guns even closer. By Golden Path standards, it's almost cosy.

"Hey," Ajay says, stepping into the room. Frowns at the file Sabal's absorbed in, the papers spread across the worn couch at his side. "You...heard me, right? We blew up the brick factory?"

"Yes, you told me," Sabal says. Tugs another sheaf of paper towards him. Settles back into the couch to read it. "I gather you're pleased with how the mission went?"

"Uh, yeah? I mean, okay, maybe there were a few issues, but that's pretty normal. We got it done in the end. It was fine."

Sabal inclines his head, eyes on the documents in his lap. He doesn't look up, doesn't respond, and when the silence gets long Ajay tries again. "It was, right? Was it okay? I talked to the Havildar first, he said I should..." he trails off, suddenly uncertain. Adrenaline seeping away like water down a storm drain, gone as fast as it first flooded him. Leaving him just a little bit hollow. Doubt; it rushes in to fill the empty space.

_Blow up the brick factory_ , he recites to himself. _Use an elephant to cut the cables, C4 on the smoke stack, kill the soldiers, plant the charges, blow it all to bits. Right?_

"I thought it was okay?" he says, tentative. "Did I screw it up somehow? Nobody said-" _but they wouldn't, maybe they'd be too scared. Son of Mohan, all that crap. Maybe they'd leave it to Sabal to chew me out._ He swallows.

"We're going to have to work on your mission reports, brother," Sabal says without expression. He still doesn't look up, and Ajay can't work out if that's good or bad. "If you're planning to stick around, that is." His eyes flicker up, needle-sharp, and Ajay is pinned where he stands.

"Yeah, if that's- if you want me? I'd like to stay."

"Good." Sabal blinks, goes back to his...intel. Whatever it is. "But you'll have to do better than _that_ ; the work isn't finished just because you set something on fire. I need details."

Ajay shifts on his feet. Feels the usual itch, in and under his skin; put under pressure, observed and found wanting. There's a reason he's never done all that well in crowds, or anywhere too many people might be looking at him. He doesn't...deal. "Okay," he says. "Sure, I can do that. Sorry, I...guess I got a little carried away."

"Understandable. I imagine it must have been pretty spectacular." Sabal is noncommittal. Borderline disinterested, Ajay would guess, only that's not possible.

The factory was _huge_. By Kyrat's standards it must have been a monument, a landmark. A target the Golden Path never had any hope of taking out. Until now. The way Amita and Sabal were talking, it sounded like the hub of drug production in this half of the country - maybe in the entire country. Destroying it was a hell of a thing to accomplish.

_I fucked up,_ Ajay thinks, feeling sweat start to prickle under his gloves. _He's just trying to decide how to tell me. If he should yell at me or whatever._

He's seen Sabal laying into people a few times, always over serious issues; packing loaded guns into crates for delivery, showing up drunk for armed escort duty, leaving grenades lying around where kids might grab them. It's scary stuff. Amita's always angry, and that's bad enough, but Sabal's rage is...targeted. He never shouts for long. Doesn't have to. He shouts, people listen, and then all he has to do is go quiet. And that's when you know you're in deep shit.

"I'm sorry," Ajay tries. "If I did it wrong, I swear it was an accident. I didn't mean to let you down." His voice actually shakes a little, and that's just unsettling.

He doesn't know how to deal with a world in which Sabal isn't happy with him. This is...the first time it's seemed like an option, and he's already less than okay with it.

Sabal's lips twitch. He closes the folder in his lap, tapping his fingers on the cover for a second. Then he looks up.

"Let _me_ down?" he asks, and he's quiet about it. "Not your father, or the Golden Path? Not the people of Kyrat?"

"I just-" but Sabal lifts his hand from the folder, holds it up in the universal gesture for _stop. Right, fucking now. Stop._ And Ajay shuts up as ordered.

"It wasn't meant as criticism," Sabal tells him. "Just an observation on your choice of wording, brother. Which tells me a lot about the way you order your priorities and I'll admit, I'm flattered. I've sacrificed a great deal to get where I am now. All for Kyrat, of course, and her people. But if I were to line up every Golden Path soldier in the country and ask each and every one of them why they fight... There are very few who would say they do it out of loyalty to _me_. I wouldn't have expected you to be one."

There doesn't seem to be an answer to that. Nothing Ajay can come up with that isn't more than he's comfortable with saying.

Sabal _is_ the Golden Path, as far as he's concerned. The man who saved his life a good five times within the space of their first day together and still hasn't brought up the fact that he traded a friend's life for Ajay's. Who never asks Ajay to do anything for him; all for the cause, for freedom, for the people of Kyrat who deserve a future but don't have one under Pagan Min.

"I really meant it," he says at last. "And again, I'm sorry. If I screwed up, if I disappointed you, just tell me how to fix it. 'Cause I will. Anything you want me to do, just say."

"Let's start with that report, shall we?" Sabal tosses the folder of intel onto a low table next to the couch, where it joins an already unbalanced stack of near identical documents. "Details, Ajay. Observations. Enemy headcounts, the strategies you saw them employ, the manner in which you countered."

_Elephant, mostly_ , Ajay thinks. _Is that a legitimate countermeasure, because that's what I used._ Finds himself on the edge of a giggle. Horrified, he pushes it back down.

"I need to know what you did," Sabal says, and his tone is suddenly sharp. Ajay stands a little straighter, forces any trace of humour from his expression. Because he's taking this seriously, he _is_ , only he's also not really sure what's going on here either. Everything's skewed and Sabal's voice is unnaturally, unnervingly quiet.

"Okay," Ajay says, searching for hints in Sabal's expression, his seemingly casual pose. Legs a little spread, one elbow resting on the back of the couch. Non-threatening. Only, it's really not.

"I need to know what happened inside the factory," Sabal continues. "How the soldiers behaved, what you remember of their weapons and armour. You were the only one there, your information is all I have to go on. Think you can manage that?"

There's an edge to his tone, a mocking hook, and Ajay's snared before he can ignore it. "Uh, _yeah_ , I think I can probably handle a mission report on a place I blew up."

Sabal smiles, slow and dangerous, and Ajay swallows hard.

"Can you? Glad to hear it," he says. Leans forward, elbows on his knees, his eyes never leaving Ajay's face. "Strip."

Ajay blinks at him for a second. "Um," he says, when he remembers how, "What?"

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Sabal asks mildly. "I thought the order was clear enough."

"Y-yeah, I heard you. I just-"

"I don't have all day."

He's serious. He is, and he raises his eyebrows when Ajay doesn't move right away. Watches without comment as Ajay tentatively lifts his hands, takes off first one glove, then the other. Places them, and his watch, on the table next to him. His jacket next. He gets the zipper caught halfway down and has to wrestle it free; by the time he reaches the bottom his hands are trembling. Shoes get fumbled off, and socks with them, placed neatly side by side under the table.

He looks to Sabal for further instructions. Finds him still watching, elbows resting on his knees, hands hanging loosely between them. There's no trace of his earlier smile.

"Okay," Ajay says. "You want me to- okay." He pulls the sweater over his head, leaves it with his jacket. _Should I be folding everything?_ he wonders in a giddy, nonsensical moment. _What happens if I don't? Is that...bad?_

The T-Shirt is next on the pile, and his hands are shaking so bad he can barely get it over his head. Has to fight the urge to fold his arms, cover his bare chest. As if that would offer any protection at all. Feels like the whole world is looking at him. Looking, judging, noting every scratch and bruise and scar he's collected since coming to Kyrat. And there are plenty.

There's nothing he can't deal with quite like being the centre of attention.

There was a school play when he was seven years old; maybe a musical, the details are hazy. Not like he had a main role anyway, quiet kid that he was. Quiet kid whose name nobody could say right. But he was there in the background with the others, and he wouldn't have been noticed. Didn't stop him from throwing up three times on performance night.

Age thirteen, and too old for a note from Mom to excuse him from doing a speech for an assignment. He clammed up after the first sentence, and the kids in his class just stared. Could have been worse; did get worse. The year after he ran from the classroom. Cried in the hallway, imagining eyes on him through the walls.

Rabi put him on live radio, couple of days back. Asshole. But he didn't know, and it's not like Ajay could tell him. Dude just wanted a quote, for fuck's sake. Something uplifting, hopeful, for people who've gone without hope for too long. And Ajay got as far as, "...Hi?" before his voice broke and Rabi took over again. He could hear the disbelief, the _ooooookay then,_ the corresponding loss of respect. Imagined he could feel it amplified and bounced back, the force of every Kyrati listener's disappointment.

He doesn't...cope. With this. With the chill air pebbling his arms, his back, his nipples. Hands clamped tight to the waistband of his jeans, Ajay looks up.

"Do I stop?" he asks, a hoarse plea, and Sabal tilts his head.

"Did I say you should?"

"No." This time, it's a whisper.

"There's your answer."

_Why?_ he wants to ask, in a voice that'll shake itself apart before he can finish. _Why, where is this coming from? Please, don't laugh at me. Yell at me, toss me out into the street, turn me away. But don't laugh._

His fingers slip on the button of his jeans, and Ajay lets slip a strangled sound of frustration. Tries again and tears it free. Slides them down his hips with his briefs. He keeps his eyes on the floor as he adds the last of his clothing to the pile. Can't meet Sabal's eyes. Ashamed of the shivering he can't seem to stop, the smears of brick dust he can see on his collarbone, the goosebumps forming on his skin.

He's half-hard already.

"There you go," Sabal says easily. Ajay glances up just long enough to see him lean back, hook his fingers behind his head. Then it's back to staring at the pocked wooden floor a few feet in front of him. "Not so difficult, was it brother? Though I have to say, if that's the speed you work at in the field, it's a wonder you get anything done at all."

Ajay chokes a laugh; sounds a bit like he's suffocating. "Least in the field I know what I'm doing."

"So I'm told."

"Yeah?" Ajay says. "You... maybe want to tell _me_ a few things? What is this?" He clenches his fists at his side to keep them from wrapping around his stomach. Bad enough that he's got the shakes. No need to advertise any louder how much this is getting to him.

_Don't look at me,_ he thinks desperately. Eyes on the floor. Counts the knots and flaws in the woodwork and tries to wish himself calm again. It's adrenaline, not arousal, that pulses through his veins, pools in the base of his belly. And he can't seem to make it stop. Digs his ragged nails deep into his palms and still, still, he can't detach himself from knowing he's being watched. And Sabal sees everything.

"Please," Ajay says, "Can I-"

"Come here."

He moves without thinking, almost tripping over his own feet as he does - and wouldn't that be just _perfect_ , just the icing on the embarrassment cake. Like he needs to feel any less in control of things. All Sabal has to do is speak, apparently. And doesn't he know it.

"Okay," Ajay says, when stepping any closer would run him into Sabal's knees. "You win. Whatever game you're playing, you've won and I've- I've lost."

"You think we're done?" Sabal asks mildly. Ajay looks up to see him stretch, slow, careless, his shirt riding up a little at his waist. And then he beckons. "Here." Reaches out when Ajay doesn't move; grazes his knuckles up Ajay's hip, and then his fingertips when the touch alone earns him a gasp.

" _Shit_. Sorry. Just- your hands are really warm," Ajay says. Closes his eyes and swallows. _Yeah. Real smooth._

"You're cold?"

"A little."

"I did tell you to come here." Sabal tightens his grip on Ajay's hips, tugs until he shuffles closer. "Relax, Ajay. I'm not a tiger. Not a wild animal, unlike some; I won't savage you."

Ajay swallows down questions ( _What...? Why...? Please...?_ ) and moves as directed, lets himself be guided by Sabal's hands. Rests a knee on either side of the other man's thighs and settles, tentatively, into his lap.

_Oh god,_ he thinks, _oh god, this is either some kind of messed up punishment, or I'm dreaming. Real life doesn't do this kind of shit to me._ And then, as he rests his hands awkwardly on his own thighs, not really sure of where else he's allowed to put them, he thinks, _So much for a short Himalayan holiday. I fucking blew up a heroin factory with C4 and elephants earlier, and now I'm straddling a terrorist and really, really hoping he chooses to ignore the boner. Fuck...everything._

"So, uh," he says, and rubs his palms against the hair on his thighs to dry them out. Not much he can do about the shakes, unfortunately. "This is friendly?"

The corner of Sabal's mouth twitches. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking; it's gone in a second, replaced by something neutral, cool and unimpressed. Like his hands aren't still where he left them, thumbs digging into the hollows under Ajay's hipbones.

"Make your report," he says.

"My _what?_ "

Ajay flinches as Sabal lifts one of his hands; holds himself stiff as his fingers splay over Ajay's breastbone, pressing in gently.

"Your report, brother," Sabal says. Voice soft, measured. "You said you could handle it, didn't you?"

_Like this?_ Ajay thinks, and even inside his own head he sounds hysterical. _Right here?_

But the order buries itself into his head, works his mouth open like a good little puppet, and he sucks in a lungful of air before saying, "Okay. _Okay_. I met up with the Havildar on a hill overlooking the factory, um, might have been the north side, I- I'm not sure. I didn't check-"

"That's fine."

"Yeah, so, he told me to save...the explosives for the smoke stack, because there were also support cables-" he has to pause as Sabal traces over the lines of his collarbones with fingers and thumb. He makes it a casual, curious gesture, but Ajay feels his cock twitch in interest. "Um, I think there were six. Support cables. And a couple of elephants, they- the factory, it had some building work going on around it. Huts, offices, I don't know. So they had elephants for heavy loads."

Sabal nods slowly. "That makes sense." His fingers drift down. Linger over Ajay's solar plexus, press in until Ajay gasps. "Keep going."

"Maybe- ten guards in the area? I think. More showed up soon after I got started."

"You didn't keep count?"

"I'm sorry."

"Next time you will." Sabal skims his fingertips over Ajay's ribs, and Ajay thanks any convenient god who's listening (Kyra, Banashur, Yalung, whoever, he really doesn't care) that he's not ticklish. "It's interesting; you're built like a big cat, you know? Wiry, but there's muscle under your fur. Lucky for us. The first time I met you I was sure you'd snap if someone pushed you too hard, like a brittle twig in winter. It's nice to be wrong sometimes."

Ajay lets his eyes drift to Sabal's shoulders, broad even under his jacket. _Built like a big cat_ is one thing; he's pretty sure he'd lose out on a fight between them, if he was ever stupid enough to start one. Pretty sure Sabal could toss him onto his back and pin him down with minimal effort. If he ever wanted to.

"Couple of snipers," he makes himself say. Forces his mind back to the factory, the dusty air and grass tickling his nose. His world narrowed down to a rifle scope. "And, um, two mortars, I think. The rest were ordinary soldiers, they weren't...expecting anything. They didn't think we'd dare."

He's dragged back to the present by the feel of Sabal's fingers tracing his abs.

"They were wrong," Sabal says conversationally. For a second Ajay flounders, scrambles to remember what he's replying to. "But they'll be better prepared in the future; our easy victories will dry up soon enough, and that's when the real struggle starts. When they're waiting for us, guns drawn." His hand drifts lower, never leaving Ajay's skin.

"We can take them," Ajay forces out, digging his nails into his thighs. "We can, we can do this."

"I don't doubt it. There are a great many opportunities within our reach that weren't there before. All thanks to you. So many things are possible now."

"I," Ajay starts and closes his eyes. "I sniped most of them off. The guards. Same as, as I normally do with outposts, I," he feels himself twitch, an involuntary spasm, a helpless reaction to Sabal's fingers drifting over his navel. Coming within inches of his cock. Which is apparently something they'll be ignoring, though he's practically squirming in Sabal's lap.

Ajay's past hoping that he might get to make a few of the rules here. All he can do now is play along.

"There were a couple of guards on patrol in a vehicle, circling the, uh, the factory. Tossed a grenade through their window. Um. Then I went for an elephant, to...to cut the...oh god," he can't do this. Sabal has both hands on his upper thighs, thumbs stroking the sensitive skin there. It's not fair, it's _not_ , and he _can't fucking do this_.

"Sorry," Ajay says, and if Sabal hears him it'll be a miracle because he can barely hear himself.

"Ajay. Open your eyes."

He does. Finds himself still under scrutiny ( _stop looking at me, I can't handle you looking at me_ ).

"Are you alright?" Sabal asks gently.

"Yeah, I-"

"You're shaking."

"I'm sorry," Ajay says, gasps as Sabal's hands move back to his hips, squeezing a little tighter in what's probably meant as reassurance. Not really having that effect. He does it again and Ajay fights back the urge to...something. Get up and leave, run for his life. Go hide somewhere deep in the forests and never come back. Stay where he is and grind up against Sabal's stomach. Shit.

"I'm sorry," he repeats, "I'm not doing this on purpose, I swear, please don't..." but he's not really sure where that sentence is going, and then wonder of wonders, Sabal is finally smiling at him.

"You're forgiven," he says. Ajay focuses on his face, his eyes, the warmth there; focuses so hard he loses track of the other details. Sabal smiles up at him. The expression doesn't change as he runs a fingertip up Ajay's cock and Ajay almost howls in surprise.

"Oh _fuck-_ "

"You're not done with that report," Sabal tells him, and this time there's amusement in his voice as he speaks, as he wraps rough fingers around the base of Ajay's cock and squeezes gently. "Feel free to continue whenever suits you."

"You're a fucking sadist."

"Am I? Have I hurt you at all, Ajay? Tell me if I have, and I'll apologise for it. That wasn't my intention. I'm not De Pleur." He waits, and Ajay doesn't reply. "You cut the support cables, placed the explosives and blew the smoke stack to smithereens. Then what?" His tone is measured; as even as the slow strokes of his hand on Ajay's cock. He pauses. Rubs his thumb over the tip, smearing clear fluid between his fingers.

" _Shit_. Okay. Um, I...dropped into the factory through the chimney. Th-there was smoke everywhere, brick dust all over the place, I couldn't," he sucks in a breath, pushing his hips up into Sabal's hand. "I couldn't, uh, see anything. Just the yelling. They were freaking out, the guards, they hadn't realised what was happening. Couldn't - _oh fuck_ , they couldn't call for help. I cut the alarms."

"Did you?" Sabal asks. "You didn't mention that before. What, did you cut them with your mind? Stare them down until they malfunctioned voluntarily? That's a nice trick, brother; you'll have to teach me sometime." He slows his strokes up Ajay's cock, adds a punishing twist to his movements, and Ajay groans. Digs fingernails hard into his own thighs. Tries to remember if he mentioned the alarms before; he could have sworn he - but maybe he didn't, maybe he's imagining it. If he could just focus. Fix his mind on the mission. Smother out the fire building under his skin.

He's so close to begging. Sabal drags his hand up Ajay's cock at a leisurely pace that borders on agonising, and it's so far from what Ajay needs. Intentionallyso.

_What's getting you off?_ Ajay wonders through the haze of his own need. Because something is; he feels the press of Sabal's erection against his inner thigh every time he moves, every time he breathes. _Could be a power thing, I guess. Or a shame thing. Mine, not yours._ Could just be the naked guy writhing in his lap. There's no way of knowing what the rules to this game are. And it's not like he can ask.

Or maybe he can, and he just wants to believe otherwise. Maybe _he's_ the one with issues here.

"The alarms, Ajay," Sabal reminds him. "You neglected to mention those."

He twists his hand again and Ajay bucks into his grip. "Three," he gasps, "There were three, I...sniped them. Two weren't even guarded, and the...the third just had a couple of dogs."

"Dogs, now? That's the first time you've mentioned them."

"I'm sorry, I - _oh god,_ I'm trying, I-"

He's losing it. Can't fix the brick factory in his mind, not with Sabal back to teasing the tip of his cock, rubbing his thumb across it, jerking him off in short, shallow strokes that aren't enough to do anything but drive Ajay nuts. And he watches Ajay with that impassive expression, like nothing he's doing is even reaching him. Ajay's the one completely bared, exposed to the elements, and Sabal is fucking _watching him fall apart_.

"Please just stop looking at me," Ajay manages to say, though it sounds too desperate, too honest.

Sabal blinks slowly. Tilts his head (a challenge, a statement- _I don't answer to you_ ). Leans forward and very purposefully drags the flat of his tongue across Ajay's nipple.

Ajay howls. He cuts the sound off as soon as it bursts out, shoving a hand over his mouth and forcing it back where it came from. Smothering it in his palm; that, and the sounds that follow, as Sabal brings his teeth into play. Bites carefully. Flicks the tip of his tongue back over Ajay's nipple, easing the sting. And then he pulls back.

"You're still not done," he says lazily. Speeds up his strokes on Ajay's cock; rough, thorough. "You can skip back to the inside of the factory, just this once. I'll expect you to be more careful in the future."

"No, I-"

"There was smoke, dust, visibility was low. That's where you left off. What happened next?"

"I _can't_ ," Ajay retorts; he hears his voice break completely, scatter into something like a sob. "I can't, I can't fucking do this, I'm so sorry."

He doesn't bother to protest as Sabal lets go of his cock, because yeah, he was expecting it. And he's ashamed. Should be better than this - it's a mission report, it's completely reasonable and he should be able to handle it. "Sorry," he says again. Stares down at the buttons on Sabal's jacket, the spray painted Golden Path kukris. It's easier than making eye contact.

"Relax."

"Okay. Okay, I know, just give me second-"

Sabal hushes him, his hands back on Ajay's thighs. Strokes his thumbs over Ajay's skin. "You're doing fine, brother. I tossed you into this, didn't I? Though you usually cope well enough with the unexpected."

Ajay swallows. He takes a deep breath, shuddering, and then Sabal has a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close. Permission to lean his head on Sabal's shoulder, bury his face in the denim of his jacket. "It's the whole 'naked' thing," he mumbles. Feels the fingers digging into his neck and pushes back against them. "I can't...function like this."

"Shy?"

"Yeah. I guess."

"There's no need." Sabal releases Ajay's neck. He rolls his shoulders, and Ajay leans back again, still avoiding eye contact. His cock rests heavy against his stomach, pre-cum beading on his skin. He tries not to think about it. God, he tries, but Sabal is touching him again, reaching between his legs to cup his balls with gentle fingers.

"Take a deep breath," Sabal tells him. Ajay does; it comes out as a sob. He's never living this down. _Never_. "Kyra gives us weaknesses intentionally. We overcome them, we get stronger. Breathe. Compose yourself. And then you will continue, as you were doing before, until your report is done. Understand?"

Ajay closes his eyes. Nods. Draws in a desperate mouthful of air as Sabal's hand goes from his balls to his cock, stroking up the length of him. Just the once; he stops, and his point is made.

"Four soldiers in the factory," he starts, and almost cries out when Sabal starts jacking him off again. Gripping him tight enough that the friction heats him to his core. "I had...an assault rifle, they weren't a problem. Fuck. _Fuck_. I planted the explosives where it looked like- like they'd do the most damage." He's breathing too quickly, like he's running a marathon and the end is in sight and he's _close_. Grabs at the lapels of Sabal's jacket to keep himself steady.

"I ran for the exit," he gasps. "I- Oh god, I'm going to-"

"No," Sabal tells him. Squeezes the base of Ajay's cock. "You're not. Not yet."

He's serious. Ajay meets his impassive green stare and can't bite back a sob. He can't help himself. His hands shake where he clings to handfuls of Sabal's jacket like a drowning man to a raft; he shivers, embarrassment not quite enough to overheat him in the cool Kyrati air.

He's so hard he _aches_.

"I ran. I just- I followed the light, I got out, god, I yelled. The...other Golden Path soldiers, they retreated. And then I detonated the..."

There are tears in his eyes. Honest to god tears, from the force of keeping himself upright, of focusing, enduring the punishing pace of Sabal's fingers on his cock (he twists his hand at the end of a stroke, and Ajay sobs again). From the way Sabal is looking at him. Impatient. He gave an order and Ajay isn't obeying the way he should be.

_I'm sorry_ , Ajay doesn't say; he has a feeling it won't be accepted this time. _I'm sorry, I can do this, I can do better._

"I blew up the f-factory, oh fuck, oh _god_ , I... It blew up. I. Called you to- god, Sabal, _please_ , you know this part!"

"I do," Sabal agrees. "That's enough. Well done, brother." He leans in without warning, catching Ajay on the edge of a plea and chasing it away with his tongue. Licks Ajay's mouth open, and Ajay lets his lips part willingly. Groans into the kiss, violent as it is, and pushes up into Sabal's hand.

"Please," he whispers against Sabal's mouth. "Can I-"

"Yes," Sabal tells him, and Ajay arches in his grip, screaming soundlessly.

He comes down from the high to find himself with his face buried in Sabal's shoulder again, buttons digging into his cheeks. There's a hand cradling the back of his neck, while the other goes for a last few leisurely strokes up his cock. And it feels like he should say something. Something... _cool_ , something casual, relaxed, just to prove that he didn't just have his mind flash-frozen and reset by a fucking hand job.

But he knows without a shred of doubt that if he opens his mouth he'll come out with the opposite. _Wow,_ probably. _Holy shit, that was amazing._

"I like you this way," Sabal says in a conversational tone. Then he laughs; two notes of humour before it shuts off again. He never laughs long, or often. Doesn't seem to know how. But god, when he does. When he's relaxed enough to let himself. "Though I liked you before, as well; Ajay Ghale, you're more beautiful than I ever thought you'd be. Thank you."

"No problem," Ajay mutters, his voice muffled. He feels the rumble of Sabal's laugh again, improbably soon after the last. Makes himself sit up again. His cheeks have that familiar 'sat too close to the campfire' (strayed too close to a flamethrower) burn, but at least his shakes have died down. He's almost steady. Wouldn't trust himself with a sniper rifle just yet, though.

Everything about the situation feels...unreal. Like something he dreamed up, something he'll wake from, rocking the world's most awkward boner and one more reason to clam up the next time Sabal touches his shoulder.

Only, there's no way he's imaginative enough to put this level of detail into his subconscious fantasies. Sabal's pupils are _blown_ , wide like a cat on the hunt; he projects ease, relaxation, but Ajay shifts his hips and feels the other man's erection digging into his ass. He wriggles again and Sabal sighs.

"You're doing that on purpose."

"Yeah. Sorry."

"Are you? I wonder." Sabal glances down and smiles. Rubs his fingers together where Ajay's come smears them sticky and white.

He doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to. Ajay takes his wrist (a careful grip, a tentative glance and a pause while he waits to be denied permission) and brings it to his lips. Eye contact isn't going to happen just now, but he can focus on the bronze of Sabal's skin, his callused knuckles. Licks his fingers clean, one by one.

_Check it out_ , he thinks, giddy with shame-terror-lust and so far out of his comfort zone he can't even see it anymore. _I'm on one big journey of self-discovery in this place. Finding out all this scary shit I never knew about myself._ Taste of salt on his tongue, spark of heat flickering back to life in his cock; no way he could get it up again so soon, but still. Still. He thinks, if he was still standing, his knees would give out.

"You finished?" Sabal asks mildly, and Ajay lets his wrist go.

"Yeah."

He has to look up when Sabal takes his chin between two fingers and lifts it. Kisses him again; Ajay holds in a choked sound at the first brush of his mouth. He holds very still and doesn't try take anything more than the brief, chaste touches Sabal offers. And then there's a tongue parting his lips, flicking against his own. This time, he moans.

"Come on," he pulls away to say. "Let me do something for you, let me..." and he doesn't know where he's going with that, but he rolls his hips tentatively. Nothing graceful about it; the second Sabal gives him permission, he's going to tug the guy's pants open and ride him until they're _both_ ruined.

He could almost deal with it, that way. Sharing out the spotlight. Feeling a little less like the one source of entertainment in the room. A little less like he's playing a game with rules he can't read and a man who watches him floundering and smiles.

"Please-" he starts again, and Sabal shrugs. Pats his bare thigh; it's only a little bit condescending.

"Another time, maybe," he says. "I have work to do; our troops need instructions, new direction now the drug factory's in ruins and the opium fields are cooling off. I won't have Amita taking this opportunity from us, brother. Not after all your hard work."

He pushes Ajay's thigh; gentle, implacable. This isn't up for negotiation. Ajay slides off his lap, fighting a new wave of embarrassment. He's back to square one, naked in the chill mountain air, looking for answers that just don't seem to come.

"Can I," he says, and nods at his pile of clothes when Sabal looks up from the file he's gone back to reading. Like nothing ever happened. Like the last half hour exists only in Ajay's head.

"Hm? Yes, of course. We're done here."

"Thanks," Ajay says, and he never meant to sound so grateful, but there's nothing life loves more than screwing him over.

His hands shake when he reaches for his jeans. Just a little, not something that'd be noticeable to anyone who wasn't looking. But he'd be prepared to bet almost anything that Sabal knows. That he's watching Ajay pull his clothes back on with unsteady fingers, two steps ahead and already planning his next move. Ajay rubs at the back of his neck; it doesn't stop his skin from prickling.

"Strategy meeting at dawn tomorrow," Sabal says, and Ajay doesn't turn around.

"Sure. I'll be there"

"You will," Sabal agrees. And then, warmer, "Get some sleep, Ajay. There's a long road ahead of us, and we're only just getting started here. You're with me, aren't you? I'm not sure what I'd do without you anymore."

"Yeah," Ajay says. He fumbles the strap of his watch, can't get it to sit right around his wrist. _Fuck_ , he thinks, and shoves it in his pocket. _What the fuck is wrong with me_. "Yeah, I...I'm with you. I'm all yours."

The subtext hits him like a rifle barrel to the face, and then he's stuck dealing with the damage he can't undo. Hard to take it back when it's true. When he knows he'll be back here at dawn, rubbing sleep from his eyes and adjusting the drape of bow and quiver across his chest. Sabal's man, through and through. In every possible sense.

Ajay looks up and finds Sabal's eyes on him. Watching; patient. A tiger at rest. And he thinks, in a fleeting moment he'll make himself forget, that he's never been more afraid in his life.


End file.
